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“Um, a very good one?” Logan’s voice pitched a higher tone than I’d heard before.
I covered my eyes, refusing to look at him.
“Oh, noooooo,” I moaned through my hands.
Logan cleared his throat. “There might have been some moaning.” A small laugh sounded from his direction. “Okay, maybe a lot of moaning.”
“Really, you can stop talking.”
“But that’s when things got interesting.” He paused. “The moaning turned into thrashing and then a lot of screaming.”
“Okay, I got it!”
I kept my hands over my face and shook my head. I couldn’t ever look at Logan again. If that damn creature wanted to kill me, now would be a great time.
“I would’ve woken you up sooner,” he said quickly. “But once you started screaming, it was hard to shake you. You were kicking and clawing.” He grimaced. “Sorry I held you down. I thought maybe you were really hurt, but you wouldn’t open your eyes.”
I pulled my hands away from my face. “Jesus, I’m so sorry.”
Logan sat up and gently turned my head to meet his stare. “Did something happen to you? I’ve seen people have nightmares, but that was something else. Almost like… never mind.” He paused and shook his head.
“Almost like what?”
Logan looked down at my boots. “Like reliving a trauma?”
I looked down at the dusty ground and brushed my hands over the claw marks until they disappeared. My dreams were so powerful they were manifesting themselves. They were trying to tell me something, practically screaming it at me. The connection wouldn’t go away on its own. I needed to make it go away. If these creatures were real, then I was going to kill them and sever the link forever.
“It’s not what you think it is.”
“I don’t know what I think it is,” he said jokingly.
“It’s not something that happened to me,” I said, biting out each word. Screw it. Here we go, honesty. “I have these horrific nightmares—and no amount of therapy or alcohol or sobriety seems to keep them away. That’s why I’m fucked up. That’s why I continue to stay fucked up.” I kicked a burnt stone into the ashen pit of the dead fire.
“Quite a pretty shitty hand you got dealt,” he said.
“Yep.”
You only know the half of it.
“Can I help?”
You’re either the kindest man I’ve ever met or a glutton for punishment.
“I don’t think you can,” I whispered.
Logan put his hands in his pockets and peered over at me. “Okay.”
I swallowed and looked at the pastel pink and baby blue streaks lighting the eastern skyline.
“Okay,” I said quietly.
I reached down and grabbed the half-empty canteen from my back and swigged the rest. Each gulp singed my throat like acid on an open wound. Logan wouldn’t be wanting to kiss me again anytime soon with that news. Good. I could focus on more important problems. Like saving him.
“Since both of us are awake, let’s go ahead and start moving further into the canyon.” He bent over and rolled the foam up.
“Sure.”
I neatly wrapped up the sleeping bags and brushed my teeth. Staying a few feet away from Logan, I began repacking items on the ground. I walked in a circle around the dead fire and searched for any remaining items in the dirt. I paused, bending down to look at a few lines carved into the earth, a few feet from the claw marks I erased was a symbol on dirt. The marking. Eight symbols connected to eight lines, radiating from a central circle. Each a symbol, a different, distinct shape. It was the exact brand on Gray Eyes’ chest. I knew it as if it were on my own body.
